


Опомнись

by dfbytc



Series: [RE]Chroma [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, creepy themes, death and its aftermath, major character death but not really, mention of death and suicide, wonshik meets god and things are not how he expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dfbytc/pseuds/dfbytc
Summary: God never answers.But God always listens.





	Опомнись

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if anyone expected the next anasa part, I promise I'm working on it <3

                                                                             

 

The feeling returns to his fingers. When he breathes in, the air feels warm, tinted with a weird taste he has never come across. It’s like gasoline, it oozes into the atmosphere, and he breathes in, smelling it, knowing there are probably a hundred reasons he shouldn’t.

He realises he is half immersed in water. In his ears, the only thing that echoes is his heartbeat. When he opens his eyes, he sees hues of pastel, peach and rose. Creamy clouds wander in a circle around him, and then he remembers.

He rises, abruptly. His eyes wander around, and the only thing he sees is black water. Still. Lifeless. When he moves his body, no waves form, no reaction is visible. The sky is not reflected, only his skin. It feels like the black will suck him in in any moment, but the initial fear vanishes as the water gets warmer around him. It reassures him, calms him down.

He reaches down, puts his weight on his palm and stands up, trying to take in the vast nothingness spreading all around him. They say space is endless, but have you ever felt insignificantly small? Dust in the wind, the inevitable passing of time, when everything goes by too fast, and you are helplessly watching?

He feels it now, felt it the moment he gulped down the pills.

Exactly 10 of them.

As he turns around to scan the area, the absolute absence of sound, he notices the palette of pastel in the sky getting dark behind him, in the distance, turning a black someone would avoid out of instinct. But he feels a calling, there is a presence there, somewhere, that wants to see him.

His feet move automatically, the water envelopes him every time anew. Suddenly, like waking from a trance, he realises he stands right in front of them. They don’t say a thing. They stare at him, leaning back on their throne, afloat in the air. Is this black marble?

The eyes staring at him are black, their hair covering half of their face is also black, and their long fingers are pale, with hands veiny and almost see-through skin. Whatever they are wearing is torn, dark cloth reduced to lumps over the millennia, and their feet are bare.  
  
  
Wonshik understands who this is, though he never expected them to look like _this_. This goes against anything he has heard, any depiction he had seen.

He feels he should say something.

 

“I made it, didn’t I?”

 

The deity nods faintly. Their eyes stay fixated on him.

 

“I made it…”

 

Wonshik looks down on his hands, forms fists that let his knuckles turn white.

 

“What happens now?”

 

The deity doesn’t open their mouth, but instead Wonshik hears their voice directly in his head.

 

“You vanish.”

 

The voice is light and delicate, warm, but Wonshik starts trembling with fear. What did he expect to hear? He is dead, what’s the worst that can happen now?

 

“I see…”

 

The deity watches.

 

“Before you send me away, I-I want to know something.”

 

He feels like he can proceed so he does, swallowing down the lump in his throat, fighting the tears of realisation.

 

“I… Before… Were you… Did you hear me? When I prayed to you?”

 

The deity’s eyes close, and Wonshik knows they _have_. Anger surfaces from beneath his pain, and for once he is honest with his feeling, lets everything flow freely. Enough with concealing.

 

  
“Why… _Never_ … I _never_ felt your presence. Not once.”

 

The deity opens their eyes again. There is no answer. Only pain in these dark eyes.

 

“I needed you, so many times. I prayed every night, when- when _he_ died, I needed you the most, and you weren’t there, I was alone-“ Wonshik’s voice breaks, and tears spill over. “I loved him… I… I was so alone…” Wonshik’s voice is a mere whisper, almost inaudible, and he lets himself break down, crying with sobs, the pain taking away his breath.

When he looks up again he sees the deity opens their mouth to say something, and then, their eyes fill with dark liquid.

Tears threaten to escape.

 

 

“Why did you never answer my calls?”  
  
  
  
  
The black tears run down their white cheeks, down their neck, onto the rugs they are wearing, staining them further. The deity wraps their arms around them protectively.

 

 

“I was waiting! For something! _A-anything_!”  
  
  
  
  
The deity breathes in, as if its unnatural to them, heavily, unevenly. The tears don’t stop coming, and Wonshik feels mocked.

He should be the only one crying.

The deity has no right to.

This is all _their_ fault.

  
  
  
“Why? Why did my calls go unanswered?”  
  
  
  
  
The deity’s tears stain their thighs, start forming a path down to their calves, against all odds. Wonshik realises through all his anger that the liquid drips down their ankles, to their curled toes and then it falls, drips into the dark water surrounding them.  
  
  
It dawns on Wonshik and he realises he is standing in a sea of tears, gathered over so much time his brain is not able to comprehend. The deity’s clothes might as well have been white once.

  
Out of seemingly nowhere, he feels ashamed.

  
The deity’s voice sounds weaker this time, and now the voice is the product of their throat, not just projected into Wonshik’s head.

  
  
“I can’t.”

 

Their voice is faint and fragile.

Wonshik doesn’t believe his ears, parrots the deity.

  
  
“You… You _can’t_?”  
  
  
  
The deity hesitates, and the well of tears doesn’t want to run dry.

  
  
“I can't answer... you... Creating… all of… this… It was… Draining… I can only listen. All I can do… And I listen… to all of it, alone, here. For all of eternity.”  
  
  
  
Wonshik realises with horror what this potentially means, and the deity continues.

 

“The screaming, the pleading, the hatred, addressed to me, it’s omnipresent. Every language, the crying… melts into a horrible mass of sound… it’s always there… I can’t help anyone, not even myself.”

 

The deity stands up, unsure on their feet. They step down their throne, reaching Wonshik.

 

“I’m sorry.”  
  
  
  
It echoes in Wonshik’s head again as the deity mouths the words, but nothing comes out their mouth.

 

“I…”

 

Wonshik wants to respond with something, but apart from still not believing that this is actually god, he still needs time to process that they are in front of him. They are two meters apart.

The deity is crying and apologizing to him.

How, just how? Is this god, truthfully? Is this possible?

 

“I’m sorry my kin…”

  
  
“No…”

 

Wonshik starts getting freaked out by them, and the deity (?) is getting closer. Wonshik steps back.  
  
  
The deity is only one meter away now, and they reach out with their hand.  
  
  
  
  
“I’m so sorry” it echoes in his head again, and Wonshik feels paralysed, like stuck in quicksand. The deity touches his cheek, cups it tenderly.

  
  
“No…”  
  
  
  
The deity holds his face, black tears running still, and Wonshik can’t look away from their face, now that it has been unveiled from beneath the black hair. It’s soft and beautiful, eerily so, and when the deity closes the distance entirely, Wonshik is struck again with the weird taste. The deity’s mouth is on his lips, kisses him gently, slowly. Wonshik want to push them away but he can’t move, until his legs give away.

Wonshik sinks down to his knees, face held up by the deity, and he feels panic rising in his chest. With his voice stolen and arms hanging down helplessly, he suffers with his anguish in silence, until he is lying in the water completely. The water gathered around him gets warm again, comforting him, seeping into his bones, and the deity lets go of him, smiles sadly at Wonshik.

 

"Now, vanish."  
  
  
  
“No!”

  
  
  
-

 

  
“The pulse is still weak.”

“Another shot, Taek.”

He feels numb and heavy, his limbs might as well be made out of steel.

“He comes to his senses.”  
  
“What?"  
  
A mask is fixated on his face, and Wonshik’s sight is blurred. He feels weak. He wants to move, but he is tied on a bed. His sight starts clearing out, and when he clenches his fist he feels straps and tape attached to his skin, tubes stuck in the crook of his arms. An unsettling sound emerges from a monitoring device behind his head, and the weird smell of hospital hangs in the air, although they are clearly in a moving vehicle. The ambulance is rushing through the streets with blue lights.

A thumb and a pointing finger keep his right eye open wide, and a light is held into it, blinding him momentarily. He wants them to stop, but he can’t tell them. He is stripped of his voice.  
  
“Mr. Kim? My name is Taekwoon. I’m a paramedic. Do you understand me?”  
  
Taekwoon switches eye, tests it just the same.  
  
“His irises dilate,” Taekwoon tells the other paramedic.  
  
“Wait with the adrenaline.”  
  
“Got it.”  
  
Taekwoon puts away his light, and he vanishes shortly out of Wonshik’s peripherical view. Then he returns, he grabs Wonshik’s hand, squeezes it reassuringly.  
  
“Mr. Kim? Please blink if you understand me.”  
  
Wonshik’s eyes finally adjust after the light-exposure, and when he looks into Taekwoon’s face, he freezes.  
  
It’s the same eyes. The same eyes, the same soft features. His soft locks are framing his face, the rest of his hair is pulled back into a messy bun. Even his lips have the same colour.

When Wonshik looks down to where their hands connect he recognises the pale veiny hands, the translucent skin.

He starts breathing hard.

 

  
“Mr. Kim?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from the song Опомнись by Ivan Dorn & Vakula, click here to listen [-sc-](https://soundcloud.com/ivandorn-com/ivan-dorn-x-vakula-opomnis) [-yt-](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSCbLRD47hY)


End file.
